


Better

by elisetales



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: Comfort, Fluff, Illnesses, M/M, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-28
Updated: 2012-09-28
Packaged: 2017-11-15 04:58:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/523395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elisetales/pseuds/elisetales
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cain gets sick, and Abel's going to look after him whether he likes it or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better

**Author's Note:**

  * For [justeight](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=justeight).



> Follow-up to 'Fever.' Written for justeight on Tumblr.

It was the middle of the night and Abel was awake again, unable to stop tossing and turning beneath the sheets. He was still sore from when Cain had insisted on fucking him rough before they went to sleep, and it was uncomfortably hot in the bed, Cain's too-warm hand splayed across Abel's belly. Abel pulled off the sticky sheet and rolled over onto his side, putting one hand on Cain's hip and pressing a kiss to his shoulder, hoping Cain was awake too. Cain's skin was scorching and Abel was worried about him.

"Cain," Abel murmured, voice still thick with sleep.

"Mmm."

"Are you feeling alright?” Abel asked. “You're burning up again.”

Cain had been sick for days—that much was obvious to anyone with eyes—but Abel didn't know why Cain insisted on pretending he wasn't. He'd so far refused all offers of help, and Abel knew it wouldn't be long now before Cain burnt himself out and collapsed from sheer exhaustion. Abel couldn't stop worrying over it and was sure it was why he couldn't sleep at night.

"M'fine," Cain croaked then, and Abel sat up and leaned over him, brushing the sweaty hair back from Cain's forehead.

“You’re not fine, Cain—”

“Just fucking go to sleep, Abel,” Cain interrupted irritably. “We've gotta be up for patrol in three hours. You want to talk to me, talk to me in the fucking morning."

Abel set his jaw then, feeling oddly determined. He couldn’t stay quiet any longer while Cain did this to himself, had to step in and say something, to hell with the consequences. If he didn’t save Cain from himself then no one else was going to do it.

"No,” Abel firmly replied. “We don't have to be up soon, because _you’re_ not going anywhere like this. I won't let you; you're too sick."

"Tch. Not that fucking sick."

"Really, Cain?"

"S'nothing I can't handle," Cain replied, voice rough and scratchy. "Don't have the luxury of laying up in bed for days while I wait for it to go away, either. And why do you give such a shit, anyway? I did nothing for you when you were sick."

"You were there when it mattered," Abel reminded him, and kicked the sheets off of his legs. "And you're going to let me help you whether you like it or not. Stay there, okay, I'll be right back."

When Abel returned, pain pills in one hand and a cold, wrung-out wash-cloth in the other, the lights were on and Cain was lying flat on his back and grimacing, the back of one hand thrown across his eyes.

Abel sat down next to him, smoothing back his hair, and gently pushed Cain's hand out of his eyes. Cain blinked up at him wearily, skin pale and trembling all over, unable even to manage a scowl or a snide remark -- it was this more than anything that caused Abel to realize how sick he really was.

“Are you going to let me help you?” Abel asked him softly, pressing a hand to Cain’s forehead. He was still too hot, skin damp and sticky.

“Don’t have much of a choice, do I?” Cain mumbled back, and Abel took that as the long-overdue admission that Cain needed his help.

Abel pushed an arm beneath the pillow and propped Cain’s head up. “Here.” He took the glass of water from the bedside and pressed the pain pills to Cain's mouth, Cain giving his fingers a weak little bite, and lifted the glass of water to Cain’s lips. 

When he’d swallowed them down, Abel brushed back his hair and said, “You’ll start to feel better soon, I promise.”

“Tch. Doesn’t feel like it, baby.”

Abel pressed the cool wash-cloth to Cain’s face then, wiping down his face and his neck. When Abel started to wipe down his chest, Cain managed a weak smirk and said, “While you’re down there, princess…” Abel rolled his eyes at him and told him to stop it. Cain was all talk at this point and they both knew it—Cain had been too weak to finish fucking him earlier in the night, despite his best efforts, and Abel was still sore and cranky from Cain repeatedly trying anyway, even when it had been obvious neither of them were in the mood.

“Sit up for a second and I’ll get your shirt off so you don’t overheat,” Abel suggested when he was done with the cloth, hooking his arms under Cain and hauling him up from the mattress. Cain looked miserable, head lolling to one side, but he didn’t say a word when Abel grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it to the floor. Cain let his head fall against Abel’s shoulder then and groaned. Abel rubbed his back, holding him for a moment, before he said, “Lie down,” and eased Cain back down to the mattress.

Cain looked up at Abel from the pillow and lifted a hand to Abel’s cheek, tucking a lock of hair behind Abel's ear. Abel smiled down at him and leaned into his touch—Cain wasn’t usually so affectionate, and Abel reasoned the pain medication was finally starting to kick in. Abel was happy enough to enjoy Cain being sweet with him while it lasted.

He turned his head to kiss Cain’s wrist and asked, “Feeling any better?”

“Little bit. Still feel like shit, though,” Cain answered, taking his hand from Abel’s cheek and trailing it down his chest, pausing to dip one of his fingers into Abel’s bellybutton.

“You’ll feel better in the morning,” Abel promised him, and leaned down to kiss Cain's head. “Now get some sleep.”

Abel settled in beside Cain when the lights were off and put his arm around him, Cain pulling Abel closer to him and resting his head against Abel’s chest. It was still too hot with Cain’s skin scorching against his, and Abel was sure he wasn’t going to be able to get back to sleep now, but with Cain’s arms around him, breath soft against Abel’s chest, Abel didn’t mind so much.   


End file.
